


Fallen From Grace

by Owlwithafringe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Asgard, Blood Magic, Creating A Vessel, Gabriel Running Away From Heaven, Gen, Old Norse, Pain, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series, References to Norse Religion & Lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:44:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4582929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Owlwithafringe/pseuds/Owlwithafringe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel successfully manages to slip away from Heaven, away from all the fighting and the pain. He builds himself a new human body and buries his angelic powers so deep within him he may have as well ripped his Grace out - it certainly hurt like he had - but now weak and in pain, he was completely vulnerable. He needs a place to hide - and fast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He’d run away. He’d finally done it. Gabriel felt like he should feel something, some sort of joy or relief that he’s managed to get away undetected – he knew there could have been unthinkable consequences had he been caught, regardless or not if he was an Archangel – but he just felt numb. As if his Grace had been clawed out of his very being by the blunt talons of a Leviathan and torn to shreds by the other monstrous creatures that lurked in the darkness of where they’d been banished. 

Sneaking out was the easy part though, he wasn’t foolish enough to think otherwise. He was careful to leave discreetly so he wouldn’t be spotted by any lurking guards or wandering Seraphs but he knew he was fortunate to be the one who was ‘God’s messenger’. If someone saw him leave then they may put it down as him leaving to pass a message. That is if they even questioned it all.

He wondered how long it would take them to figure out that he was gone. He’d simply disappeared and failed to return. There one moment, gone the next. Who would realise that he’d left and not come back? There seemed to be lack of brotherly love going around after everything that had happened. He highly doubted Michael would care if he even bothered to notice and dear old Dad left the building after the Fall, not that anyone seemed to know.

Others might care though, perhaps not in the way he’d want them to. They would be angry with him for leaving. Archangels were supposed to be resolute, infallible. And now two had been forced from Heaven for one reason or another. 

No, they would try to bring him back. More fool them, but they would try none the less. Gabriel needed to prevent that from ever occurring. He needed to disguise himself so that no-one would find him, so that no-one would recognise who or what he was. 

He needed to mask his Grace, to conceal it somehow and then hide himself away in the last place anyone would ever think to look for him. By the time he’d finished he wanted to be able to look in a mirror and not even be able to see himself in his reflection. 

First of all though, he would need to get a human body. He would already have a huge advantage by becoming one face in a mass of insignificant humans. 

He couldn’t take a vessel though. It would be too obvious. He couldn’t pick any human at random and ask for their consent without accidently blowing their eyes out or burning them out. Of course there were numerous humans designed to be able to carry his Grace but Heaven had a record of who were suitable vessels which meant they’d have a head start on where he could be.

He needed to make his own custom design vessel. One built to last, one built to hide him. Luckily he knew how to, knowing the recipe that Dad used for the first humans. Why mess with a classic? He flew himself to a small corner of the world he’d carved out for himself, making sure to cover any trace of Grace behind him. 

He arrived in a small cave located far away from any people that might stumble across it. It was warded against everything Gabriel could think of; His siblings, demons, vampires, werewolves, pagans – Didn’t want to burn out any unsuspecting people. Right at that moment, it was the safest place anywhere for Gabriel to be. He knew he would be protected here long enough to craft a vessel.

The Bible said that Adam had been created from dust and then had life breathed into him. Sadly the story made it sound a lot simpler than it actually was and that part about life breathing was bullshit. Also it made it evident to Gabriel that whoever wrote the Bible didn’t know the first thing about spells and had an over-fondness for metaphors. 

The dust part was true – sort of. It wasn’t dust that was used, rather it was dirt. It was possibly a mistranslation that ended up in the story as being ‘dust’. The whole use of dirt for the creation of man was what started the insult of ‘mud monkeys’ for humans by some of Gabriel’s less tolerant brethren. 

The breath of life part was actually a whole ton of blood magic and complicated rituals resulting in the spark of human existence. Fortunately for Gabriel he didn’t need to create a human life, soul included, just the body which automatically made it simpler.

Gabriel took care in crafting his body. It needed to last him for centuries, if not millennia and it would be his home for that long if all went to plan. He took his time building each limb, each organ, handling it like he was sculpting the fragile petals of a flower. He relished adding small touches here and there, making it more personal and ‘lived in’; a cluster of freckles dusting his shoulder blades, a scar on the calf of his right leg, hard callouses on the palm of his hands. 

He left the face until last, hesitant as to go about it. The face, to him, was the most intimate part. He would be identified by this face for possibly the rest of eternity. When he saw his reflection, he would no longer see the lightening and storm and fire that was his true form, but this fleshy face. This would be _him_ as far as he’d be able to see, so he needed to get it right.

He gently moulded a striking nose, lips he could already smirking resulting in little dimples, sweeping hair, long enough to fall over what would be his eyes and tickle the back of his neck but too short but put in a braid of any sort, frown lines on his forehead.

It took Gabriel days, possibly weeks for he wasn’t keeping time, before he was satisfied with his new body. The project had taken his mind off his grief but as he surveyed his form he could feeling it bubbling in the back of his mind, threatening to boil over again. He knew once he entered this body, there would be no going back from there. 

And he was almost glad for it. 

Gabriel took a moment to relish the feeling of freedom of being in his true form. Being packed into such a small human body would be uncomfortable and constraining even with his Grace hidden away. It would be a long time until before he’d ever experience this feeling again, if ever. 

The spell was prepared, all he had to do now was take the figurative leap into the body for it to be completed. It would be hard to stop being Gabriel. It was all he’d ever been, ever knew: how to be a good brother, a good son, a good angel. But now he wasn’t any of those things. It was _their_ fault though. How could they expect him to stand and watch as they ripped and tore each other apart? 

He had been forced to this. Gabriel might not have had the power to stop his brothers but he did have the power not to hang around and watch them. He almost wished his decision was harder to make because then there might have been some sort of hope left, and not this finality that had been written by Destiny and Fate.

A blinding light filled the cave, brighter than the heart of dying star as Gabriel’s Grace entered the body, his essence larger than any human could comprehend and almost comically trying to fit inside something a fraction of the size.

For a moment Gabriel knew only black. He wondered for briefly if something had gone wrong, if he had died and this was his punishment for leaving. For the first moment in the eons he had existed he wondered what happened to angels when they died. They were already in the afterlife, in paradise. So what came after paradise? Just this black void?

But then it was like time had started again, after pausing for a moment. Gabriel could feel his eyes blinking open, then shut, open, then shut. A repetitive motion which he should barely be aware of, yet at that point it was all he could focus on. It was how he knew he was alive.

The black proved to simply a product of human vision. It was so weak that without light, all he could see was dark. 

Gabriel’s lungs breathed in and out, a cycle, like blinking. He could feel his heart drumming a beat like the soldiers marching in heaven and the blood racing through his veins as fast as he flew as a fledgling. Electrons fired from synapses, running through his new nervous system sending messages to a brain. It was all connected, a network of organs and veins and bones, working harmoniously and in-synch together. Human bodies are weird. 

Gabriel sat up, a dizziness almost overwhelming for a moment. The easy part was over. Now for the hard part.

It was hard to explain in human terms what he was doing. There wasn’t really words that existed in the human language to do so but for lack of better terms Gabriel was hiding his grace, burying it deep within himself. Like trying to capture a storm and keep it in a glass jar. He knew he could do it but it would be painful.

And it was. Screams ripped from him, long and agonizing like nothing he’d never felt before. His vocal chords would soon give out under the strain. It would have been novel, vocal chords, if it hadn’t been so excruciating. 

He knew he would not have long before he eventually blacked out pain so with one last beat of his wings before he effectively clipped them, he threw himself away from the cave towards the closest signs of human life, hoping the bright mass of souls would hide him from his brothers whilst he recuperated.

Judging by the feeling of cold and wet surrounding his body though, as he appeared in a new place, he’d fallen short. The sound of wind howled in his ears and bitter cold bit at his uncovered flesh. As the dark sky disappeared from Gabriel’s sight, his last thought before losing consciousness was that he hoped he didn’t die now as a human before he even managed to live for himself away from his brothers.

 

*****

 

He could hear the deep undertones of a male’s voice. Another voice joined in, higher: female. He vaguely recognised the voices to be arguing in Norse as consciousness swam around him, his mind flailing to grab it. In his haze he recognised a question being asked to him. “Hvat heitir þú?” Who was he? That was a good question. He wasn’t Gabriel anymore that much he knew.

He didn’t know who he was, never thought to think that far. Gabriel considered his response. If they were talking Norse that meant they were probably pagans from Norway or Sweden, and anything but a Scandinavian name would raise questions. That narrowed his options. 

He thought of the language, words springing to mind. Sendimaðr. _Messenger._ Perhaps it too obvious for even Gabriel to get away with. He thought about what he was running from, what he was running to. Fyrsta. _Beginning._ A new beginning. Then why did it feel like his life was ending? _End._ Lúka. Loki?

“Loki.” The word felt foreign on his tongue as he murmured his reply. “Ek heiti Loki.”

He felt the swell of darkness surge and sighed in relief as he let it carry him back into the sweet blackness of unconsciousness, leaving the Norse strangers to be nothing but a faint dream.


	2. Chapter 2

Gabriel came back into awareness. He could feel the warmth of a sunbeam fall onto his skin, and see the light behind his closed eyes. It was a stark difference from the memory of bitter cold. It felt bizarre, to feel the soft furs and silks swaddling him, the fabric of clothing moving against his human skin, the sensations felt almost overwhelming. He felt like a lazy cat stretching out in the sun.

“Loki?”

A voice interrupted Gabriel’s lethargic enjoyment, as Gabriel’s eyes snapped open. Loki? Who was Loki? Who was talking? Where in Dad’s name was he?

Gabriel tried to sit up to defend himself, but an overwhelming dizziness overcame him. Damn weak human body. Gabriel’s eyes darted around the room, assessing the threat. An older women began to gently push him back into the bed, a firm hand against his chest. She wore a blue wrap held together by an intricate brooch. Her brown hair was arranged in a loose bun and her face was lined with sternness, though Gabriel recognised kindly glint in her eyes.

Behind her was a man and a women. The man had braided blonde hair and wore a dark cloak over armour. He appeared to be unarmed. The women next to him also had blonde hair. She wore full armour and was quite obviously armed. Gabriel watched them suspiciously but allowed himself to be pushed back down into a lying position. It wasn’t like he could put up much of a fight anyway; He could barely feel his legs.

The man answered the older women’s question when it became apparent that Gabriel was not going to answer. “He said his name was Loki.”

Ah. Yes, he had, hadn’t he? Memories trickled back from the previous night. Apparently he had been rescued by those Norse strangers that had stumbled across him. He felt justified in his previous assessment of their nationality. Their clothes and jewellery were fitting of a Norse warrior and there was the fact that they were still speaking Norse too. But there was something else about these people too. An aura around them that radiated ancient power. Nothing that Gabriel wouldn’t normally be able to handle but in the current state that he could feel himself in, then it was just enough to make him feel edgy.

Gabriel opened his mouth to speak but his tongue was dry and his throat burned, preventing him from doing anything than give a hacking cough. He forgot that these bodies needed maintenance. 

The elder women reached to the bedside, eyeing her guardedly. It wasn’t necessary though, as her hand reappeared with a goblet containing water. She handed it to him, and he drank the contents greedily without thinking of the possible consequences of drinking unknown liquids from a stranger whose motivations were still unknown. 

Gabriel handed the goblet back to the women, deciding that the water was not poisoned. Not that it would have mattered _after_ he’d drank it. It wouldn’t make sense for them to rescue him only then to kill him. But the question still hung over Gabriel. Why did they bring him back to wherever they were? 

The women spoke again, her voice slow and patient, cracking slightly from age. “Let’s try this again shall we? My name is Eir and I am a healer. I have been caring for you since you were brought here last night. Your name is Loki; is that correct?”

Gabriel quickly glanced around the room, stalling for time. Eir, the Healer? Gabriel’s knowledge of other Deities was rusty at best but he recognised Eir to be the Norse Goddess of Healing. Now the question was, was she the actual Goddess or just a human named after her. He was leaning towards the side of it being the actual Goddess – it would explain the strange air she was giving. However, there would only be one way to know for sure if she was.

“Indeed my lady, it is. Would you tell me where I am though? I’m afraid I don’t recognise this place.” His own voice sounded fractured from un-use. It was odd. It was the first time he’d properly used his voice whilst fully conscious. It was quite thick and rich: dark chocolate came to mind. Not a bad to be stuck with at all. Gabriel could imagine himself getting into all sorts of trouble with it.

Eir smiled at his politeness. “Dear boy, you are in the infirmary of Asgard.”

So, she really was the real deal. Gabriel wasn’t sure if this was a blessing or a huge mistake waiting to happen. Would this be an obvious place for him to hide or not? Was it worth the risk? 

Gabriel thought about it; he was used to a certain kind of living. Despite this one being more barbaric, it would probably cater nicely to it and the chances of his brothers ever setting foot in Asgard were slim to none. Could this be his new start? He thought it rather could be. Loki from Asgard. As new starts go, it didn’t sound too bad. Now he just needed to create a fake life story to go with his new identity.

“Asgard? My mother was from Asgard. She was a lower deity, however she resided in Odin’s court before she met my father. She was killed tragically when I was all but a child.” The tale spun itself, slipping from Gabriel’s lips with ease. It tasted bitter in his mouth.

The healer moved around him, checking his vitals whilst the other two strangers, Gods themselves Gabriel concluded, watched on silently. She murmured distractedly in response as she worked. “Ah? Who was your father?”

“My father is a Jötunn and my mother was an Æsir.” Gabriel replied. He knew of the long turbulent history between the two species, however he knew that would be the safest bet. When the two peoples were not at war then they lived quite harmoniously together. It was feasible for some of their kind’s paths to meet and to fall in love. 

Eir nodded sympathetically. “This would explain the odd energy signature that alerted Prince Thor and Lady Sif to your presence in the first place.”

Gabriel glanced at the couple, ‘Thor’ and ‘Sif’. Thor, son of Odin and Sif, his wife. “Indeed it would.”

Sif’s expression was closed off, her mistrust of Gabriel clear. It wasn’t exactly unfounded: he hadn’t told a single truth in their presence but his intentions weren’t harmful. 

“I shall speak to my Father and see to it that we set you up accommodation. You may stay as long as you would like Loki.” Thor’s voice boomed across the room, and Gabriel could see why he was called the God of Thunder. 

“There really is no need.” Gabriel replied hastily.

“Nonsense!” Thor insisted. “Your Mother was a member of our court and so shall you, as long as you are willing of course. Even if you do not, you must stay until you are fit to travel again and I doubt Eir will want you here during that time.”

Eir swatted the Prince’s head with her hand, reprimanding him lightly. Had it been anybody else, no doubt they would have been thrown in the jails no questions asked, but it was clear to see this was a women who had watched this man grow from a mere baby into what stood before them today.

“Nonsense, he may stay in the infirmary for as long as he needs to.” Eir corrected Thor before turning to address Gabriel once more. “However there will be a difference between being well enough to get out of bed and well enough to travel outside Asgard. During that time you recuperate you might wish to have your own chambers, mostly for your own privacy. And I doubt you will want to see this face every day.”

“Why ever not? It is as lovely as character.” Gabriel replied easily, a smile slipping onto his face. It felt peculiar against his facial muscles. He was really going to have to get used to having his own body soon.

Eir laughed, and despite her aged face it was clear that as a young woman she had been beautiful and was still so now especially when she smiled. “You, young man are a charmer. But the point still stands; you will need your own chambers.”

“If you insist, dear lady.” 

Eir turned and nodded affirmation at Thor who smiled widely at the news. “Excellent. I shall speak to my Father immediately. We shall hold a feast in celebration of your arrival tomorrow evening.”

“You will not.” Eir protested, “Unless you wish your guest of honour to be absent. Loki is still weak and he isn’t going anywhere without my say so, and certainly not to a feast.”

Thor conceded her point with a good nature. “Of course. It will give us plenty of time to arrange it. I must bid you both farewells for now then.”

Eir patted him on the shoulder in goodbye and moved away from Gabriel’s bed

Sif lurked for a moment, eyes still trained on Gabriel. It was barely noticeable to anyone without a keen eye that she was hesitating but Gabriel had always prided himself on having such an eye. Her gaze still hinted suspicious and something else. Something Gabriel couldn’t find himself identifying much to his irritation. 

He nodded at Sif, as if to acknowledge he’d seen her concerns and was trying to appease them. After all, he really wasn’t there for any wrong doing. She startled slightly as if she hadn’t expected him to notice before closing down her expression completely and sweeping away after her husband.

It was an odd experience to say the least, but Gabriel was beginning to suspect that that may be the first of many for him at Asgard.

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series which will explore Gabriel's life away from Heaven as he becomes Loki, the Trickster. I don't have a set posting date for each installment. They'll just come whenever I finish them. I might not post them in chronological order either.
> 
> Feel free to leave kudos and comments, feedback is always appreciated and motivates me to write more! Subscriptions to the series will also mean you see updates on this 'verse! Come and find me on Tumblr at **[Owlwithafringe](http://owlwithafringe.tumblr.com/)** , to see updates on fics or to leave me a prompt.


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